Bittersweet Surrender
by McGeekle
Summary: Ziva returns to DC, but not to the situation she expects. "You are seeing someone?" she asked. "Uh, yeah. I am."


It was late in the night that Ziva arrived back in DC. The cold winter wind slammed into her desert acclimated form, sending shivers up her spine. She certainly hadn't missed the weather. Her hair whipped around her face, creating a halo of curls and she huffed, not at all enthused about the tangles she was certain would make her life hell later. She brushed them back and hailed a cab, pulling her carry on behind her.

She was anxious. Ziva David did not fidget, and yet throughout her cab ride, there was little she could do but just that. She worried her hands, thinking about all the things that could have changed since she'd been gone. What if they didn't want her back? What if she was wrong all this time and they would not forgive her for leaving so abruptly? For not calling when she should have? She jiggled her leg. She knew these were things she should have thought of long ago, before she decided to keep her distance, before she decided that the best thing was to cut herself off from them completely. But there was nothing to be done about it now.

She stopped briefly at Gibbs' house, leaving her carry on in the corner in the doorway. She suspected he was in the basement, but there would be time for that reunion later. She had much to say, and he was incredibly important to her, but her heart burned for another man, the one who she watched walk away. With a silent promise to return, she left as silently as she came.

The rest of the ride to Tony's place was filled with nervous anticipation. She wanted so badly to see him, hold him again. She only hoped that he was home. She wasn't sure if he would take kindly to her picking his lock all this time later. Rushing out into the snow, she made her way up the walk to Tony's building. She tried not to run up the stairs, the nerves she felt coursing through her urging her faster and faster. She took a deep breath as she approached his door. This was it. She fought the smile breaking out on her face, trying to get a hold of the rampant excitement she was fairly certain Abby felt every day. She took a final breath and knocked, louder than she'd intended. Not quite pounding, but close to it. She internally cringed. Seconds later, there he was.

He was thinner than she'd remembered, somehow even more handsome. His jaw was more defined, his hair speckled with traces of gray. But his eyes were the same. The striking, piercing green that stayed with her in her dreams.

"Ziva," he blurted.

"Hello, Tony," she beamed.

"You're…here." He said, surprised. Surprised but not excited.

"Yes. I am finished. I thought it was about time for me to come home.

"Wow, I uh…do you want to come in?" He asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

"Yes, thank you."

"So, how have you been?" He asked as she disrobed.

"I am much better now," she said sincerely. He took her coat and scarf, hanging them on the coat rack by the door. She smiled as she let him.

"You did what you had to do?"

"Yes, I think I did."

"That's good. I'm happy for you," he said, his smile not reaching his eyes.

They were falling back onto pleasantries. She pushed away the negative feeling pooling in her gut.

"Thank you," she paused. "I missed you."

He smiled tightly. "I missed you, too."

She wanted to hug him so badly. Just wanted to touch him. But he was closed off, she could tell, feel. He wasn't happy to see her. At the very least it didn't feel like he was happy to see her. She smiled anyway.

"So how are you doing?"

"Fine. Trained up a new probie, old Probie is taking it pretty well. Gibbs is Gibbs, you know?"

"That is good to hear, but I asked how you are."

"I'm fine. Same as always," he stated. He fidgeted, his head twitching as it did when he was uncomfortable. She frowned.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asked, the days of her coming in to his place and making herself at home long gone.

"Sure," she said, turning to the couch.

She took a step but paused. There was a sweater hanging over the back of the couch, a woman's sweater. Her heart sank. She should have known he wouldn't wait for her forever. She should never have built them up in her head to be more than they were.

"You are seeing someone?" she asked, motioning to the sweater.

"Uh, yeah, I am."

"Is it serious?"

He nodded "Yeah, it's serious."

Her heart shattered. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep her chin from trembling. She felt the tears prick at her eyes and desperately willed them away.

"Oh." she said. It was the only thing that she could will herself to say.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Tony asked defensively.

"Nothing," she said, struggling to keep a lid on her emotions. "I just was not expecting that."

"That what? That I would move on? Try to be happy?"

"That is not what I meant," she retracted, shaking her head.

"Then what the hell did you mean, Ziva?"  
>"I just…I thought…that you would wait," she stuttered with an exasperated shrug.<p>

"You really want to talk to me about waiting?" His anger rose alarmingly quickly, and Ziva was left to gape in surprise. He took a determined step forward, imposing himself on her space. She wanted to step back, the force of his emotions almost tangible. But she stood her ground. She did not come all this way to run away from him again.

"Do you have any idea how long I waited for you? How long I sat waiting for a phone call, an e-mail, hell, even a post card? I waited over a year for you Ziva, and you never came home. Never called. What the hell was I supposed to think?" he ranted, gesticulating wildly.

"I… I was going to call. If you only knew the amount of times I picked up the phone and almost…" She stuttered, the excuses sounding weak to her ears even as she said them.

"Almost isn't good enough. I drove myself crazy for a year worrying about you. Wondering if you were getting any better, if you were even alive. Because the Ziva I knew wouldn't abandon her partner without so much as a word and show up two years later expecting what, that I'd sat around waiting for you to come home?"

"I thought that I was clear. I was always going to come home to you, always."

"How was I supposed to know that? You didn't bother to tell me anything!"

His voice continued to rise until he was nearly shouting. Ziva stepped toward him, closing what little gap there was between them, her voice rising up to meet his.

"I gave you my necklace, Tony. You know how important it is to me. I gave it to you because I knew that you would keep it safe until I came back to you. Does that not matter at all?"

"Would have been nice to know that about a year back, Ziva. Now it's just worthless."

"Worthless? You think I went through years of trying to change my life and be a better person for us worthless?!"

"What do you mean for us? There is no us. There never was an us. If you'll recall, I wanted to take you home so that there could be an us, probably forever, but you decided to stay in the desert. That's not on me."

They shouted at each other, nearly nose to nose. They were not going to back down. Ziva was nearly sweating from the exertion of the confrontation. Her emotions warred within her. She did not come for this. She did not want to cause a conflict. This was not who she had worked so hard to be.

"There has always been an us. Whether I wanted there to be one or not. You wormed your way into my life and refused to leave. I shared everything with you, Tony. Everything. Things I never told anyone else. I thought that meant something. It certainly did to me," She lowered her voice gradually, until she had fallen back to a normal speaking volume, exhausted, broken, honest. "The first few weeks after you left I could not breathe knowing what I had done. Knowing that I was the one who was causing you pain again."

"It didn't have to be this way, Ziva," he said, his voice rough. "You didn't have to stay, and you didn't have to do it alone."

"Do you think I want to be this person? Someone who pushes everyone I love away? Someone who does nothing but cause others pain?" She snapped. She shook her head, rubbing her forehead forcefully with her palm.

"That is exactly what I was trying to get away from, this confrontational person. But I see now that I cannot be what you need." She continued to shake her head, speaking mostly to herself.

"Maybe this is better. Perhaps she is better for you than I could ever be."

"Ziva…" He said weakly, reaching for her.

She backed away, moving her arm away from his grasp. "No. I see now, you deserve so much more than me, Tony. So much more. I hope she is everything for you."

"Ziva, don't do that. You know that's not what this is about," he said resignedly.

"Then what is it about? Because I have done exactly what I said I was going to do. I had to stay behind, Tony. You knew that. You knew that I was unhappy and that I wanted to change my life. And even though I knew you did not agree, you held me, and you promised me that everything was going to be okay. Do you remember that?"

"Of course I do."

"We stayed awake all night because we did not want to fall asleep and miss a moment of our time left together. We lay there and I promised you that one day, I would come home," she said tenderly, earlier tears fighting to make a reappearance.

"I know," he murmured.

"I should not have gone so long without contacting you, I know that. But I did not want to keep bringing myself back here before I was ready. I did not want to disappoint you."

"You could never disappoint me," he said honestly, looking down to meet her eyes.

"You say that but It appears as though I have," she said with a sad smile. "I was the one who said that I do not depend on happy endings, I do not know why I expected anything different now. I am sorry to have caused you trouble."

She turned to leave, the door cracked open when he slammed it shut, taking her in his arms and trapping her against it. She didn't even have time to react when he crushed his lips to hers. The kiss was hard, and desperate. His tongue stroked hers, drawing a moan from them both when she fisted his hair. He pressed his body into hers, pinning her to the door, each curve of her body fitting perfectly with his. He broke the kiss off quickly, but leaned in for another. The second was much softer than the first, tender. He let his lips wander hers, remembering every wonderful thing about their time together. When they finally pulled away, they leaned against the door, foreheads together and breathing heavily. Tears were flowing freely down their faces, the taste more bittersweet than salty.

"I'm not going to leave her." he said softly. "I can't."

Ziva only nodded, the tears took her words.

"You have to understand, she spent a lot of time fixing me up. I can't just leave her now."

She nodded, her forehead still resting against his. She leaned in for one last kiss, her breath soft against his lips. Before their lips could touch she pulled away, wrenching herself away from him. She cracked the door once again, turning to leave him behind once and for all, when she heard his voice behind her.

"Ziva," he whispered, "I'm sorry."

She didn't turn back to face him, blinking back the tears that were falling freely down her cheeks. She took a slow breath, gathering her voice, and pressed out, "So am I."


End file.
